


My Dear Champion

by St8_0f_M1nd



Series: My Dear Champion [1]
Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Forgive Me, Gen, Halt is kind of creepy, Okay he's a lot creepy, Trigger Warning: Body Horror, Will just wants a nap, but he's a good guy, god AU, save him, they're gods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2018-10-25 17:12:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10768761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/St8_0f_M1nd/pseuds/St8_0f_M1nd
Summary: In the beginning, just as many stories you've heard start, there was godlessness. Man and darkness lived as one. Demons scourged the lands taking and raping as they pleased. There was none with power to stop their unending terror. Not that men, in their ever present greed, ever bothered to stop them. That is until one of them committed an unthinkable act that changed the course of  history forever, thus beginning the Era of Gods.Ah, but I'm getting ahead of myself; or is it behind? For, you see, this story actually begins after the creation of The Gods. Yes, this story is about a boy who made a choice most men wouldn't dare think of. This is the story of a boy and his God.Discord Channel now up!!: https://discord.gg/hTSwkrf





	1. Tús

**Author's Note:**

> BE WARNED: THIS STORY IS REALLY DARK, BODY HORROR, AND VIOLENCE AWAITS. ITS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THIS.  
> Okay so, my friend and I were talking about RA and she was like "what if they were gods?" And it evolved. 
> 
> Please give it a shot, I really love feedback (so long as it's positive)!
> 
> Tús = Beginnings

**TÚS**

Will liked to think that he was brave. He also liked to think that he was an adventurer. He spent days in his childhood dreaming about lost treasures and exciting tasks that he believed he would experience once he grew older. He would think of climbing tall mountains to see dragons of old soaring in the sky or of fighting evil knights to rescue fair maidens. To see the world as if the land itself was his home and not the community bunkhouse that he slept in. So when the time came, and he had the choice to become what he dreamed of being, he leapt at the chance. Taking every opportunity he could to see his dream through.

He did not, however, even think of the possibility of becoming lost. Nor being chased by brigands. And if that wasn't enough,he was now hiding in an abandoned worship hall next to a petrified skeleton that was laid on a foreboding altar. Cursing his luck and stupidity, Will had to admit that it would take some sort of miracle to get out of the situation he put himself in.

He tried to think back and figure out what went wrong. He was approached by one of the village men, an older gent who had bent back. The man had asked if Will was willing to deliver a package to the man's brother in the next village, a good two day trip on foot. Will had agreed, of course, anything to get out of the village and explore. Then he…… Will drew a blank.

 

What happened next?

 

Rustling next to him scared him just enough that he had to fight to keep the scream in his throat. Looking over he saw a bird. A large raven perched on the skull of the dead worshipper. It seemed to stare through him. Unsettled, Will looked away to try and remember what got him in this mess. Let's see….it was on the toll road.

That's right. The brigands portrayed themselves as the road patrol and tried to rob him. Will was lucky that he knew the local patrol, he saw through the farce after speaking with them and that was when things went sour. The thugs had decided to cut Will down before he got to the proper authorities. And that is how he ended up here. Hiding with a corpse and a bird, terrified.

 

“Quite the predicament you've found yourself here, isn't it?”

 

The voice was so sudden and so loud in the silence that Will couldn't help the shriek that came out. He whipped around to see the culprit, praying it wasn't the thugs. All he saw was the bird and the skeleton. “What?” Will whispered, “”Don't tell me the bird spoke just now.” His voice was beginning to become hysterical. Perhaps he was just pumped with adrenaline and he was just hallucinating the-

“What? Don't be ridiculous!” Nevermind mind. It was the skeleton. The sudden movement of the skeleton's mouth made the raven jump slightly, causing the decaying eyeball to fall from the socket. Will could only stare in horror as the opaque white had broken open at the force of the jump, dripping the gelatinous substance over it's face. Feeling bile come up his throat, Will watched the head turn unnaturally to face him properly. A maggot dug its way out of the eye.

Will couldn't swallow it down. Vomit came out before he could stop it. He heaved, feeling his stomach burn, shaking at the intensity. The skeleton was speaking again, but he almost missed what it said.

“Dear, oh dear. If that just isn't rude, you know. But I'll let it pass just this once. As it is, I haven't been approached in such a long time, it was to be suspected.” Will couldn't move, he was dry heaving and trying to breathe, of course it didn't help that the dry hand came to stroke his hair in a mockery of a mother soothing her child. Pushing past the horrid feeling flooding his consciousness, he dared to look at the skeleton that was speaking. It's head was turned a complete 180 degrees to at least seem to look at him properly, it's arm had been bent to carry out the action of stroking his hair. He now saw that in it's eye sockets crawled spiders, both big and small. They crawled down the face, to the alter, some even skittered into his hair, but Will was stuck in absolute terror as a black snake began to slither out of the wide mouth. Nothing could make this worse.

 

“There he is!”

 

_Oh sweet Caitlin, Goddess of Mercy, please shine your light down on me._

 

Will could cry at his dumb luck to be faced with not only a horror even his nightmares couldn't conjure up alone, but with the thugs as well. He started to cry. He couldn't help it, the tears just flowed and didn't stop. Will didn't care when the thugs began to taunt him for the sign of vulnerability. He began to shake just wishing for the end to just come already.

“Oh my, are they picking on you, my darling?” Will heard the cracking of joints as the voice spoke again. He looked through tears to see the body sitting up, it's spine twisting to face the bandits. It began walking towards them, it's legs moving backwards, torso facing them, as it's head spoke upside down. It just ignored the cries of alarm, as it spoke again. “That won't do. Not at all.” The rib cage began to contort and bulge, “That won't do at all.” The skeleton seized forward as it's back ripped open to seep out black tendrils. It seemed as if the smaller form was giving birth to a larger monstrosity. Some of the bandits tried to run, but it was all but too late for then as the doors slammed shut and shadows covered the floor like a dense fog. More and more of figure began to take shape as the thing inside of the skeleton began to rise higher and higher.

Cackling filled the worship hall as features became more prominent. Will could see feathers poking out if the figure, followed by a rushing of fabric as a long cloak came into view. Soon a tall, imposing man stood amongst the horror. Will had thought, deep beneath his reeling mind, that he had never wanted anything like this to happen. Ever.

But that was the last he saw as finally Mercy kissed him, too much happened in such a small amount of time, and he slipped unconscious to the sounds of bones crunching and screams.


	2. Réamhrá

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Will meets his fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is here! Thanks for giving this a try! 
> 
> I'm not sure how often I'll be posting chapters, but hopefully they'll be in a timely manner.
> 
> ^3^ thank you guys!

Will woke with the odd sensation of being too warm and sticky. He was loathe to open his eyes, but he did so if only to see what was causing such feelings. He first noticed that, while the sun was still out, it was dark. As if a shadow had covered the area in hopes of dissolving the offending light. Then he noticed that he has laying down on something that was still, but off of the ground. Will had a roaring headache and his throat had become dry and agitated. He tried swallowing, but to no avail.

 

Where was he? He needed to find out. Memories were hazy, and he wasn't sure if what he  _ did  _ remember wasn't just some dream.

Gods, he hoped it was a dream.

 

Looking down was his first mistake. It wasn't the fact that he was floating. Or the fact that something was distinctly cooing at him. No it was the scene below that really had set in the fact that he wasn't dreaming before.

 

Below him lay nothing short of a massacre. Blood not only pooled on the ground but also dripped from the walls, as if buckets of it had been carelessly tossed about. Will had stopped breathing at the sight of half of a body. The bottom half was all that lay on the ground. Skin, muscle and even organs were torn as if an animal had feasted on it. Will didn't bother looking for the other half. He had seen enough.

 

It was the subtle shifting beneath him that drew his attention to what was holding him. Glancing at his legs, he saw shadow. No, they couldn't be shadow. These were solid, warm even, and disturbingly wet. They twisted around his legs and torso, he saw, applying enough pressure to keep him supported, but not constricting him. 

 

Looking further up the... appendages?... Will saw for the first time what had saved him. And may possibly kill him, too.

 

A God.

 

A real, breathing God was holding him as if he were a toy. Will heard from Alyss and Horace that the Gods were big, but he never thought that they were this big. This being was at least 12 feet and had the aura of unquestionable authority. 

 

But the God's Alyss and Horace spoke of were always bright, as if they were made of the sunlight or of stars. Alyss always said the Pauline, Goddess of Wit and Intelligence, radiated soft, golden light. Rodney, God of Honor and who Horace was Champion to, was said to be bronze and shined of greatness.

 

This God was everything but. He was dark, even his shadows had shadows. His eyes weren't bright at all, they were solid black, and peered at Will as if he could see into the deepest corners of his soul. He wore armor of old metals and feathers covered nearly all of his cloak. His hair, long and almost unkempt, was bound by leather and bone. Will had never seen so much black on any person before.

 

“Are you finished staring?”

The deep Hibernian accent had startled Will from his thoughts. The voice, while deep was strangely warm, as if it was meant for soothing the mind. “I-um-that is..” Will couldn't find his voice to finish a sentence. A thick eyebrow raised at his fumbling.

 

“As I understand that it is hard for mortals to overcome the initial fear of these meetings, one would think that you were a rude young man.” The God put will down on the decaying altar. It creaked under his weight, but held firm, even as Will scrambled to keep hold of the slivers of wet shadow as to not drop. This earned him a snicker from the God. “I even saved you from a horrible fate, and I get no thanks from you.” He leaned close to Will now, so close that Will could smell rotting blood and see a glimpse of sharp teeth as he sneered. Those dark eyes bore into Will mind. He felt so vulnerable under that gaze, so exposed. It took all he had to even respond to the expectant face.

 

“I...uhm...thank you..?” He hoped this would be good enough for the God because his energy was draining by the second even though he just woke up. Though to be fair, he did have a trying experience before passing out. Thankfully, the God straightened, leaving the shadows from Will, obviously satisfied. “I should think so!” He stated, a bit loudly. “Now then, you have my attention, however you wish to interpret, so speak whatever it is you need.” The God sounded like a mother trying to get her children on the hurry for chores. At Will's blank look however, his tone changed to one of annoyance. “Well?”

 

“Well, what?” Will didn't know what else to say. He didn't know who this God was or if he was even a good kind of God. He looked sinister and, if Will was being honest, untrustworthy.

 

“What is it you need from me? Power? Strength?” Will shook his head slowly. “Need a curse in someone?” Again Will shook his head. “Then why are you here?” The God was becoming more and more agitated and his tone of voice lowered with each syllable. 

Will's mouth was dry, and he stumbled over his words, again. 

 

“ I was...trying to-uhm- to get away from the-the…” he gestured vaguely to the remains of the thugs, “and I found this place,”his voice raised a pitch when the God leaned in closer to stare at him, “and then you did that-that thing with the body and the stuff and I don't know what going on anymore. Oh Goddess Caitlin, why is this happening?” Will held his head as it began spinning, and through his precursor to a panic attack nearly missed a long taloned finger tilt his head back to stare directly into those dark, endless eyes.

 

“Do you follow Caitlin?” The question was almost soft, as if Goddess Caitlin meant something to the God.

 

“No.” the answer came instantly. Will had been claimed by no God's and he never followed any specifically.

 

“Ah, you are unclaimed.” Oh. He hadn't realized he spoke that last part out loud. “Then, I'll take you for myself then, as a token of your appreciation.”

 

A token of what? Will was saved and now he was expected to pay that back to this….thing? He began to protest, but was quickly spoken over.

 

“Well then, congratulations….what is your name?”

 

“Will. My name is Will Treaty.” His name was pulled out of his throat.

 

“Congratulations, Will Treaty.” the God stood straight and seemed to even preen a little, “you are now claimed by the God, Halt.”


	3. Faoi Deara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Halt makes an entrance, it's not loud.
> 
> But everyone knows about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Faoi deara = Noticed
> 
>  
> 
> Guys. Guys I'm sorry that it's been forever. I'm trying to set up an updating schedule, but it's not working out.
> 
> Anyway, Pauline is hard to write. So is Halt. 
> 
> Writing is hard.

The feeling was subtle, as if it were a mere shift on placement of furniture. Such a small feeling, but Pauline felt it. She snapped her head up from her papers as the feeling drifted away.

 

Something was wrong. Or at the very least drastically different. Pauline knew this feeling well, someone gained a follower. All of the Gods felt it when it happened. It was the connection they all had, what brought them together. But this was different. This feeling, while familiar, was so different. It was so small, but she felt ice creep down her spine nonetheless.

 

Standing quickly, she summoned a helper to her. As the girl came, Pauline began writing a message hurriedly, scrawled letters evidence of her hast. “Give this to King Duncan at once.” She instructed. “Under no circumstances are you to give it to anyone else, no one. He needs to be informed.” The girl bowed and left in a near run. If Pauline was right, Duncan would need to know the Halt was awake and that he now had a follower.

 

She repressed another shudder. Halt had been dormant for nearly 8,000 years after his worship had become illegal. He had simply disappeared to who ever knows where he resided. Rumor was that his lands were riddled with the bones of his conquered enemies with rivers of polluted blood. It was hard, once, for her to believe such things.

 

She and Halt knew each other once. He was always polite when speaking with her and the other Gods. Being the Eldest of them all, Halt had an aura that demanded respect, but he never asked for it. He was always content to just watch the world, never being apart of it. When she was younger, Pauline had fancied Halt. To her, he was a calm, collected leader. A God of great strength and just responsibility. She had thought to herself that maybe one day she would join with Halt. But that had changed at The Abandoning.

 

She allowed herself a sneer of disgust. The Abandoning was 8,000 years ago, but it stung her heart still. Morgareth, God of Valor, had told the others that Halt was planning devastation to the world as was his so called divine right. At first they protested, Pauline being one of the loudest voices. But the evidence that kept showing up was too much. Rotting forests, infighting and murder in the villages, and even the wildlife was becoming plague stricken. All of the symptoms kept leading back to Halt’s temple. And when he was questioned about it, he had said nothing in his defense. It had broken Pauline to the point of shutting her heart off to anyone else, not wanting that pain again.

 

“Hello, Mistress Pauline, how are we today?” That, of course, did not stop recurring pests from trying unfortunately. Morgareth, God of Valor, stood in the doorway as if he was a blessing amongst Creation. Pauline had to repress the urge to roll her eyes in disgust. The God simply could not understand that she wanted nothing to do with anything he had to offer and kept attempting to seduce her to his side. “I'm very well, Morgareth, thank you.” He stared sharply at her before correcting, “ _ Lord  _ Morgareth, if you will. Can't be mistaken for some common man, you know.”

 

That made her gut twist in anger. How dare he. “What do you want,  _ Morgareth _ ?” She put emphasis on his name with no title to let him know she was not some woman to be demanded. If he sensed her defiance, he said nothing about it, only continuing on. “Really? I would have suspected you to be unnerved, if not distraught.” She tilted her head in minor confusion, but before she could ask, he went on. “Seeing as how Halt has made a move on the chessboard of our world.” He looked at her, bearing deep into her eyes to see anything.

 

He did not. She refused to let him see any emotion in her eyes even though it was a raging storm. Morgareth prodded a bit more, “As I understand it, you two were quite close once. Yes?” Silence. “I had feared for you when he Abandoned us, terrified that he would hurt you anymore than he had. Or maybe even convince you to join him at his side.” Morgareth was closer now. He had moved to Pauline as he spoke and was at her side, his voice just low enough to be a mockery of intimacy. She breathed deeply before looking back at him.

“I have felt the signs of his movement as have the others. I have sent word to King Duncan and have faith in his decision to handle the situation.” Her voice was even, betraying nothing. Morgareth clenched his jaw briefly at the mentioning of the King, but had moved on to ask, “And what is his decision?”

 

“I'm not sure, as I have just sent my messenger, but I know he will take the proper precautions. We will not allow Halt to harm the world we watch over.” She squared her shoulders, standing straight. She was tall enough to stare Morgareth in the eyes without looking up, a fact that unnerved him deeply. “As for my  _ past  _ relations with Halt, I would appreciate it if you don't mistake my passing fancies for undying love. Halt is a monster, and he needs to be sealed away or killed. I only regret I didn't see it sooner.” She walked away from him and his penetrative gaze. “Good day, Morgareth, I assume you know where the door is.” She walked away from her desk and from him to approach the balcony. She heard him scoff, before his footsteps echoed through the room. “Careful who you speak to in such ways, Mistress, it would be horrible if you made enemies with only your voice and accusations.” Before she could turn around and retort, Morgareth was gone. Leaving her in absolute rage and hatred for the man.

 

He may have had a large role in preventing destruction, but it did not make him a good man. 

                                  ∆•∆

Caitlin, Goddess of Mercy, took a sip from the tea she had brewed. It was sweet and tasted of apple blossom. Like the other Gods, Caitlin had felt the stirrings of Halt’s return. She said nothing, and she did nothing, just as she had when Halt was banned from worship. Caitlin would watch the world react to Halt’s return with great curiosity. She was ecstatic, in her own way, that Halt was returning to this world. After all, he was her brother, and they were close. Even during his banishment, he would send small waves of emotion her way, letting her know he was fine. She didn’t know if he did the same for Ferris, their brother, but it was a small comfort to believe he did.

 

“Your smile is a lovely sight, My Lady, but has curious timing given recent circumstances.” Crowley, Recorder of the Gods, was finishing his offering for her when he spoke. He was no God, but was given immortality to record to actions of the Gods for Them. They were always there, always watching in Their own way. They had given the task to Crowley reasons no one knew of, but then again, who knew the workings of a higher being’s mind? In exchange for their history and stories, Crowley made offerings to each God, specific to their responsibilities. It was no easy task, but he never complained about it. Always putting every ounce of effort and love into each piece. Caitlin’s offerings were always decorative jars to hold the salves and herbs her Nurses used to heal. Each container hand painted by him, was beautiful and she loved them dearly.

 

“Does it?” she asked him, adopting an innocent tone. Crowley arched an eyebrow, but did not comment. “I suppose one would find it odd that I am  happy to see Halt return.” She continued, looking off to the side as if she found something of great interest. Crowley hummed in response, putting the piece of pottery down, reverently, to her. “There you are, finished.” He brushed his hands off on his cloak, smearing the paint on the fabric. “Family is family, no matter who they are. They will be apart of your heart forever. It is what makes you relatable to your followers, I believe.” The way he spoke, Caitlin had believed that he was speaking from experience rather than logic. She brought that to his attention. “Did you see Halt as family then?” 

 

That had made Crowley pause. He had known of Halt, but had spoken to him rarely. The God was soft spoken and never rambled uselessly. But something about him made Crowley feel subconsciously aware of his presence at all times. Even when Halt disappeared, Crowley felt him watching. Waiting….for something.

 

“Not family perse, more like I know of him and I feel like I know of his values. I can't say for certain that we connect on a familial level more of a spiritual acceptance of each other’s existence. Forgive me, it's hard to put into words.” Caitlin nodded slowly as she picked up the jar to admire it. Halt always seemed to leave that impression with people he met. Even Ferris, Halt's twin, never left such a deep impact when speaking with others. “I suppose I understand Crowley. Even before the Era of Gods, Halt was like that.” 

 

Crowley waited, hopeful that she would go into detail. She didn't, of course. He had been the Recorder for 10,000 years, but Halt and his siblings had been alive for much longer and that past had always been shrouded in mystery. He would ask what it was like, before Gods came to be, but their answers were always the same. Ferris would shake his head and avoid eye contact as if the mere thought was too much to bear. Caitlin would only smile sadly and say that these times are much better now, best to leave it at that. Halt, however, was the worst. Crowley had asked him only once of his life before becoming a God, and that was the last. 

 

Halt had merely stared into Crowley's eyes. His deep black eyes surrounding his subconscious. It felt like Crowley was drowning with the weight of Halt's gaze, and the worst part was, he couldn't look away. Deep within Halt's eyes Crowley could see screaming and pain. So much pain that it had left Crowley feeling sick and tainted with horror the entire day. He never asked Halt of that life again and Halt never spoke of what he felt and why. They simply let it be.

 

“So, I suppose it will be interesting to find out how Halt return under his own force of will.” Crowley mumbled as he reached for a cup of tea. Caitlin chuckled softly, “Oh, he didn't.”

 

Crowley looked up in mild confusion, cup stilled at the edge of his lips, “What do you mean he didn't?” He watched Caitlin make herself another cup, stirring in the honey, and taking a sip. “Oh that's right, you yourself are not a God, so therefore you can't feel it like we do.” Crowley gestured for her to continuing somewhat impatiently. She chuckled at the action.

 

“My brother has a follower now and has used that to reconnect with this world.” Crowley let his cup slip from his grasp, crashing it to the floor.

  
“He what?”


	4. Scáthanna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened to Will and Halt?
> 
> Where did they go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys thank you for being so patient with me! I'm trying to put this into enough detail so that you can see what Will goes through to a certain extent.
> 
> Comments are so very appreciated!!
> 
> Love you guys. ^3^ ~<3
> 
>  
> 
> Scáthanna = Shadows

2 months later

Will's legs burned with the effort it took to carry the corpse back to Halt's temple. After he became an official worshiper of Halt, the mysterious God had sent him in search of a large temple that had once belonged to him, claiming it would be vital to what he had in mind for Will.

 

The temple, Halt had described, was carved into a mountain, long since abandoned and seeped in shadow. It was far removed from unwanted attention and had practically been marked as a place of death, so trespassing was extremely rare. 

 

Will had found it after searching for two weeks.

 

He had left his village, packed and ready for long travel, under the story of being given another job after finishing the first (He thanked Halt that he was actually able to finish the delivery job). After traveling north, he stopped at a small village under the mountains for rest. That night, as he slept in the barn of a generous farmer, Halt had visited his dreams.

 

He was still terrifying, huge, and seeping with shadows, but somehow he was softer than Will had remembered. It was like his armor, in its bloodsoaked metal and bone, had taken to leathers and furs instead, but Will couldn't focus with Halt's eyes staring into his. Nothing mattered when Halt looked into Will's eyes. He wondered, later, if it was like that to anyone who looked at Halt. If everyone became hopelessly lost in the inky void that filled his soul with every encounter.

 

Halt also said strange things. “Ask people where the dead walk for relief.” The deep, accented voice blanketed Will in his dream.  “Ask them what? The dead don't walk. Do they? And why would they know that? Can't you just tell me where this temple is?” Will rattled off the questions one after the other before waiting for an answer from the God. Halt, in his non-existent patience, twitched his brow in slight annoyance. “ Do all humans splurge useless and unwanted questions?” He waited for Will to open his mouth just so that he could cut him off. “Or is it just you? Perhaps if you listened to what I have to say instead of putting your horse behind your barrow, you would know more than you already do.”

 

“The saying is: putting the cart before the horse.” This earned him a warning glare and Will shut his mouth to wait for Halt's instructions. 

 

“Death is an old friend to the villagers here.” Halt spoke, his face slipping back into the blank stare Will had come to know. “When it beckons, they follow it's song to the shadows of what once was a great holding. An echo of what once was living, now left as a gutted carcass, abandoned as it's master did to his people.” Will mulled that over in his head. Did Halt want him to pretend he was dying so that the villagers would help him find the temple?

 

Halt had smiled, a feature that looked of a promised danger with his multiple sharp teeth. “If that's how you want to proceed, then so be it.”

 

Turns out, that was exactly what had helped Will find the temple. When he acted as a young man laiden with sickness, the locals quickly pointed to a cave on the mountain side. They told him that it would be quiet and warm, a good place to relieve his suffering. Upon entering the cave entrance, Will found a long hallway leading to the main chamber. There were skeletons and even some mummies either laying on the ground or stuck forever in the position of prayer. Shadows stuck to the walls, even when he lit a torch to see better. They seemed to reach for him, as if to feel the warmth of his body after spending eons in the cold of the empty temple.

 

It was then that he heard Halt's voice echo through the empty chambers, a sound that still made Will's heart stop with impending dread. “Rest here, and gain strength. This place that once belonged to men of shadow now belongs to you.” Will had thanked him, he didn't know what else to do. “I have another task for you, but you will need rest before you can complete it.” Well that was ominous. Still, the snow was coming tonight and this structure kept warm, so Will couldn't find it in himself to complain too much. He found a room with something that may have been a cot once. Deciding that it would have to do, he bedded down, wondering of his next task.

 

That task was to rob a grave. Not just any grave. No, this was the grave of a criminal that had been executed. Under Halt's instruction, Will had dug through the frozen ground to take the body. He didn't want to, he even protested at first. But soon the feeling of being mercilessly stared through got the better of him. That and the sudden intensity of shadows and darkness that had surrounded him. So with no small amount of disgust and self hatred, Will had taken the body from its grave back to the temple. He avoided the village, not wanting anyone to see him do this act. He wouldn't even have a good explanation for them if they did see him.

 

Finally, he reached the main chamber and made to drop the body when Halt's voice came again. “On the altar, Will.” Groaning, he readjusted the weight and trudged over to the altar placed on top of the stairs at the end of the room. With some struggle, he managed to put the body on the altar before slumping against the warm stone. “Why do you need this fucking corpse?” He couldn't help but swear, Will was tired and feeling absolutely horrible for desecrating a grave, even if it was a criminal's.

 

He heard a soft chuckle before Halt answered, “Don't worry, my darling, soon it will be a gift you will come to enjoy.” 

 

Will felt his hair stand on end. Whenever Halt used a term of endearment to Will, it meant something disturbing was going to happen. The first time was when they first met, Halt had eaten the bandits alive to save Will. The second time was after he left his village. Will had begun to chastise himself for not packing for the cold weather as the snow began to fall closer north he got. Halt had offered, in Will's mind of course, to provide warmth, and Will, being a fool, agreed. Luck would have it that the promised warmth was a pit of writhing, slippery shadows. Each of them like a warm tentacle beckoning him closer. They were warm, as promised, and they cradled him as if he was an infant to be lulled. After the first few nights of hesitation and initial horror, Will had come to welcome the pit with an expectant smile.

 

“And what gift would this be?” Will asked, although he had many more questions. Why did it involve a body? What did Halt do with corpses? Did Will really have to do this? He waited for Halt to answer, but he didn't. Instead, shadows began rising from the ground in front of Will like smoke. Quickly getting to his feet, Will watched as a human-sized Halt took shape in front of him. He knew that this wasn't really Halt, the real one was larger in stance and aura. This copy was just half of a head taller than Will and much less darker than it's original. “Take this and cut open his chest. Once you do take the organs and place them there” he handed a bone dagger to Will and pointed to a bowl in front of a throne. Will looked from Halt to the body and then to the throne. He turned his head slowly back to Halt's to ask a question, but Halt beat him to it. “It will make communication much easier. You are a follower, yes, but you are not a devoted one. The only reason why I can speak to you on your dreams is because I touched you physically back at the worship hall.”

 

“So how are you speaking to me now then?” Will asked as he mentally prepared himself for the task. Halt seemed very proud that Will had asked that, if his face was anything to go by. “This temple was once my greatest.” He explained, sweeping his arm around the room. “You know that Gods can speak to people physically, right?” Will nodded as he began cutting the chest. “I could do the same. Here is where I dwelled as mortals came to me for approval and my gifts.” He watched Will remove the organs now, telling Will to use care and not to overly damage them.

 

Will would take each freshly removed organ and place them gently into the ancient brass bowl. He looked at the throne once he was done. It was small for Halt, the God being well over twelve feet tall. “This is where you sat?” He couldn't picture Halt being so small all the time. Halt chuckled behind him, bracing his hands against Will's face to turn him around. They stood there facing one another, Will being held softly by Halt as the God looked at him almost fondly. “No, sweetheart.” He tucked a stray hair from Will's face behind his ear. “I sat in the throne behind that one. It is much larger for me in my natural state of being.”

 

“Oh, I thought it was a wall.” That awarded him another chuckle. Halt drew closer now, closer than he had ever been with Will. Their noses nearly touching, Halt leaning in as if to tell a secret.

  
“No, no, no. That smaller throne, my beloved, is the throne of my Champion. And soon,” he turned Will around to face it again, his arms snaking around Will's waist to hold him closer still to whisper in his ear, “it will be your throne.”


	5. An Fiach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What are the others going to do now that Halt has a Champion?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Fiach = The Hunt

The Champions sat in a room outside of the meeting room. Each of them waiting for their initial God to finish the important gathering. Amongst them was Alyss, Champion of Pauline, and Horace, Champion of Rodney. They sat next to each other, both nervous and impatient. Alyss, of course, was better at hiding it than Horace. She looked over at him, seeing him twitch and shift in his seat.

 

“Horace relax, it's probably nothing. A false alarm and what not.” She gave him a small smile. The words were for her as well if she was being honest. The Gods didn't just have meetings every other week. The meetings were reserved for hardships and devastation. Goddess Pauline had told Alyss on their way there that the last meeting to be called was during The Abandoning.

 

Horace scoffed, “Nothing? Alyss come on, let's be honest with ourselves. The last meeting resulted in the banishing if a monstrous being and the purification of its territories. Don't say that this is nothing.” He frowned . Not only that, but Will, his best friend, had gone off on a task and had yet to return. The timing worried Horace. Was Will alright? Was he just caught up in another task? Hopefully this whole thing would be dealt with quickly so that Will didn't have to worry about him and Alyss.

 

Horace allowed himself a smile as he remembered when Will told him that he was going to be adventurer one day. He was so excited when he got his first job, “This is the beginning, Horace. Soon I'll be off on my own with no tasks to do, just me and the sky.” Then about two months ago he came into town, looking ragged and exhausted, saying he had to go. He packed nearly all of his belongings and left saying it was important and he couldn't stay. Horace had noted that Will looked haunted when he flew out of town.

 

Before he could dwell any further on the thought, a banging in the next room pulled him out of it. All of the Champions looked in mild interest and shock at the door.

 

“HE HAS A WHAT?”

 

Distinct mumbling that none of them could decipher.

 

“ **I DON'T CARE HOW HE GOT A CHAMPION! I WANT TO KNOW WHY! WHERE IS THIS CHAMPION?”**

 

The bellowing voice was Morgareth, God of Valor. Horace didn't care for him, but he was considered a hero for his part in the protection of the people when a demon had threatened the people with annihilation. Soon the King's voice could be heard. He wasn't yelling like Morgareth, but his voice was loud enough to be heard. 

 

“We need to find out why and where, of course. No one is questioning that. However,” there was a pause; everyone leaned in their seats, “if we know  _ how _ Halt obtained a Champion, then we can prevent it from happening again.” Halt? The Champions looked at one another. Who was Halt? Horace looked at Alyss for any clarification, but she had none to give. Pauline never spoke about a Halt in any of their sittings. Was Halt the demon who caused The Abandoning? 

 

The Gods had told each of their Champions that 8,000 years ago a demon had been allowed to fester in the shadows and, when it had grown fat with greed and contempt, it had slithered out of it's crevices to drown the world with it's fury and hatred for mankind. The Gods had rallied together to defeat this evil and it had been Morgareth who had warned them of the demon's plans. He was considered a hero among the people of the kingdom of Araluen. Of course that didn't stop people, like Horace, from thinking that he was crass and rude most of the time. But nothing had mentioned a Halt.

 

Duncan, the King and the God of Vigilance, had calmed the God of Valor and the doors opened, signaling the Champions to enter. The room was grand as it's ceiling reached high into the sky. Drapes of gold hung from the rafters and open windows, nestling softly on white marble floors. In the center of the room was the long, oak table with the Gods sitting, an empty chair next to each for their Champion. Alyss noticed that there were two chairs empty.

 

One chair was next to Goddess Caitlin. It was grand in its own way, but it was ancient and worn. It's twisted armrests had little polish and looked faded. The other was directly across the table of the King. It was made of obsidian with dark fabric laden across it. It was imposing and full of a power Alyss could not place. And it had been abandoned, pieces crumbling to the floor in misuse. Her attention was removed from the chairs as she sat next to Pauline as the others sat next to their Gods. Horace next to Rodney, a young man named Paul sat next to Arold, God of Kindness, so on and so forth. No one sat next to Caitlin as she had no Champion, and no one sat next to the empty chairs.

 

The last to sit was Princess Cassandra, Heir to the throne and Champion of King Duncan. Once she took her seat, the King spoke once again. “Champions, today is a day I had hoped to never come. A day that has called each of you to your sworn duties.” A silence hung in the air with the severity of the meeting. Duncan took a breath before giving the task to the Champions. “There is a demon of great strength that was once banished. He has returned and it seems that he now has a...warrior to carry out his deeds. It is of utmost importance for this warrior to be brought to justice.” The Champions nodded their understanding. 

 

Horace became slightly confused, however. With the King’s hesitation over the word warrior, it added questions. Why stumble over that word? Was this person not a warrior? They had heard the word Champion. Were they to fight another Champion? The Princess, always a force to be reckoned with, began to ask questions. “What kind of demon is this? The same one from The Abandoning?” A look of slight unease came across the King's face before he answered.

 

“Yes. The same.” Low mumbling started across the table. The princess continued, “And this warrior, what should we look out for? What kind of punishment did you want us to carry out?”

 

This time it was Morgareth who answered, “This is a monster, Your Highness. A creature who knows no remorse for life and those who treasure such a gift. Anyone who follows such a beast is supposedly the same and must be treated as such.”

 

“So we kill them, end the terror, and calm the masses.” She nodded as if it were to be a simple task she completed everyday. The King shook his head slowly however. “The masses do not know about this threat. And I want to keep it that way.” Horace leaned forward to ask, “Meaning, Your Majesty?” The King looked to him now, his green eyes intense.

 

“Keep it quiet and make it quick. No one will know of their existence now or even later after the deed is done.” 

 

Through one of the windows came a tapping noise. Everyone turned to look at the source, finding a strong raven perched on the sill outside. It jumped and spread it's wings as if to fly before heading straight for the glass. It did not hit, but instead flew through it as if the bird were made of shadow. Flying across the room, it landed on the back of the dark, crumbling chair. It crooned once before dropping what it carried, grooming itself now that it's delivery was complete.

 

In the middle of the seat sat a golden skull of a raven it's empty sockets staring on mockery at the Gods.

 

And with the appearance of the trinket, the Gods became unsettled with horror while their Champions pondered quietly on it's meaning.

  
Who sent it?


	6. Taighde

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horace, Alyss, and the Princess hit the books.
> 
> Cassandra is concerned.
> 
> Alyss eureka-ed.
> 
> And Horace is just here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back!! Thank you guys so much for your patience!
> 
> Also there is a Tumblr for MDC, you guys can ask me questions, send in art, and get updates for the story here:
> 
> https://amarynth.tumblr.com

Flashing pain made Will gasp for breath. Everything burned, so why was it so cold? Make it stop. Gods please- no. The Gods never answered his calls. Halt did. Halt always answered being in a sentence or just the feeling of being stared at. Halt always answered him, always cared for him.

 

Will would always be there for Halt. To protect him. To worship him. To kill for him. Halt always made the cold go away.

                          ∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆

It had been a week since the Champions had been sent. Most had spread across the land, hoping to cover more ground to leave no possible escape routes for The Demon Warrior. Alyss, Horace, and, surprisingly, the Princess had stayed behind to research. Horace had complained the use of reading about it when they could just go out there and slay the threat. The girls had looked at him with mixed expressions.

 

“It is best to know as much as you can when going up against any enemy.” Alyss explained. The Princess nodded. “Especially if the enemy is unknown to you.” Horace made a face. “I know that! But the Gods wanted it to be dealt with as soon as possible.” Horace turned a shade of red. He wasn’t completely foolish. He let the girls continue researching for any clues for this mysterious demon, choosing to pretend to look for another book. He thought of Will.

 

He and Will weren’t friends before. When they were younger, Horace had picked on Will for being small and weak. Though now that Horace was older he relalised that it was because he was jealous of Will. Will had never known his parents, had never had anything to remember them by, so he never truly missed them. He would tell Horace that he wished he could at least know something of them, but Horace had hated Will’s situation. Horace knew his parents. He loved them so much and they were taken from him. His father had died in a carriage accident when traveling to the market. They never got to bury him. His mother had tried to provide for them, Horace was too young to work, she labored day after day until she got sick. Then she was gone.

He had so many memories that kept him awake at night. His father’s laugh when Horace made a joke. His mother’s voice when she sang to him. He was angry that Will never had to be haunted with the knowledge that his parents would never come home again. Horace hated it, and so he hated Will. Because to him, Will was lucky and blessed by Caitlin.

But it was when Horace found Will putting flowers on the graves of all of their friend's parents, talking to them of what their children were doing and how they were missed. Will told Alyss’s mother that she was getting so smart and dreamed of becoming a follower of Pauline. He told Jenny's father that she was just so happy to be taken in by the kitchen of the local Baker and that he would love all of the treats she made. When he got to Horace’s mother he told her that Horace missed her dearly and that he was still so lost. He asked her to just look after him because now was when Horace needed his mother the most.

When Will was done, Horace had sworn that he saw the shadows leave the graveyard. It was still dark of course, but it wasn't the kind of darkness that suffocated the light and made everyone uneasy. It was almost like the shadows heard him speak and they knew he wanted this place to be bright with memories of better days. Horace approached Will after he was done and asked if he did that everyday. Will had looked at him with a very serious expression. “Yes, because even though the living move on with world, the dead should never be left behind in the discord of our own selfishness.” If Horace really concentrated on the memory, he could just make out the feeling of being watched by something else. Almost like a being was surrounding Will.

A noise pulled Horace out of his thoughts. He looked over to the girls to see that Alyss was leaning over the Princess's shoulder, reading an old book. Catching his eye, Cassandra beckoned him closer. “See, this?” she asked when he was close enough. She was pointing to the middle of the book. Horace saw torn remnants of pages and nodded, “They’ve been torn out.” The girls nodded. Alyss straightened and began to pace as she did when faced with a problem. “Thats a book on all of the Gods. We were trying to see if there was any reference to this demon in there. Like maybe one of them had gone up against it before.” Horace looked down to the book again, seeing that the pages before told the last parts of Goddess Caitlin’s history and the pages after were speaking of a God of Lies and his beginnings. Alyss continued speaking, “But when we were looking into all of the histories and there is something crossed out in every history, like a name or a place, but then this. This isn't one or two pages Horace, this is a whole chapter.”

“Okay, but why is that important?”

“Horace!” Alyss looked up, a wild look in her eyes. “This book is considered Property of Them. Who would commit such a blasphemy as destroying potentially sacred text just to get erase one of the Gods from history? Who were they?” She began to gather her things and make for the door, already an idea forming in her mind. Horace and Cassandra grabbed the book and followed her. “Alyss, wait! Why does this matter if we're hunting a demon and it's warrior?” Horace really wished they would include him in their thinking processes. Luckily, the Princess was understanding Alyss and took pity on him. “Because, if there is, or was, a Good that was stricken from history, why were they erased?” She then looked at Horace with an expression that reminded him of his officers when they were explaining strategy.

“And,” she continued, “is it possible for a God to be tainted?”


	7. Cruinnithe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meetings can only be productive when everyone has an end goal they agree on.

**Cruinnithe**

Once the champions had left the meeting room, the Gods remained to further discuss the abrupt event. Crowley and his apprentice, Gilan, were called in as well. Crowley knew Halt and had spoken to him at times while Gilan held an unclouded mind to record this history. Everyone was silent, waiting on a bated breath; dreading to speak as if they believe that if they didn’t speak, the problem would go away. It was Caitlin who broke the silence, speaking clearly so that her voice echoed in the room. “It would seem that night blankets the world once again.” She sat back in her chair, relaxed, and picked up her cup of tea.

Pauline couldn’t help but glance sidelong at her. Caitlin seemed so unconcerned with the whole ordeal of Halt’s return. She frowned a bit. No, it wasn’t unconcern the Caitlin portrayed, she realised, it was boredom. As if this meeting and everyone’s reactions were ridiculous.  
Pauline made a mental note to speak with Caitlin later in private. Perhaps for counsel on how to continue without her personal bearings about Halt effecting her decisions in the future. She looked away from Caitlin when Morgareth began speaking.

“Indeed, though I would connect it with a flood of terror just about to break the dam of peace rather than day becoming night.” He looked as if he were lost in memories of so long ago. Shaking himself he looked back up to Duncan, “Your Majesty, I hope you understand my desire for haste in this time of impending doom. When I faced down Halt the first time, it wasn’t like the tournaments. There was no recognition of skill or even respect for one’s opponent. There was just the heavy stench of bloodlust and the never ending feeling of suffocating.” He then turned to look at the others before continuing, “The land could not survive being in Halt’s presence a second time.” This was gifted with a scoff from Caitlin, but she did not speak otherwise. Duncan glanced a warning look to The Goddess of Mercy before addressing Morgareth, “I understand, afterall, it was my father that allowed Halt to fester, the people paid for it dearly, and soon he did too. But I can’t imagine what it must have been like facing him down, and forgive me when I say I never want to know.” Morgareth nodded several times, Arold and Rodney murmuring words of respect for the former King.

“It was from nightmares, Majesty. He towered over me as a mountain does to a tree. Nothing but hate burning in his eyes. If it had not been for the faith of the people and my loyal followers, I doubt that I could have defeated him by myself.”

“But you didn’t, did you?” Arold, God of Kindness, inquired, “You only managed to banish him. That means that he truly is a powerful force to be wary of.” Rodney nodded in agreement as Morgareth cleared his throat. Quickly, as if the thought of something stronger than the force of valor made him uncomfortable, he changed the subject.

“Oswald was a fine King, Majesty. But he was too lax in his trust. You have the strength your father lacked, and that makes you a greater King for the people. I can’t imagine what Oswald saw in Halt to allow him to remain in this world.”

It was Crowley who spoke then. “Perhaps it was Halt’s soft spoken ways. He was after all, someone who preferred action to speak for him rather than meaningless boasting.” This gave him a glare from the God of Valor. “Ah yes, Christopher, you spent time with Halt most intimately besides our dear Pauline.”  Crowley stared at Morgareth levely, even as Gilan had stopped writing in surprise. Morgareth continued, “If I remember correctly, it was the two of you who spoke with Halt on more,” he glanced at Pauline, the gaze heavy with inappropriate emotion, “personal endeavours.”

A cracking noise rang through the room as Pauline’s armrest shattered in her grip. Pure malice seeping through her otherwise calm stature. “If you’re going to call me a whore, Morgareth, than suggest you do it with the balls you brag about so often.”

Rodney choked on his drink, Arold having to come to his rescue. Morgareth and Pauline began to brace themselves for more fighting as Caitlin looked on with growing interest. The room on the verge of disorder before Duncan spoke up again.

“Enough!” Instantly, the room quieted once again. “The only person present that has a deeper connection with Halt than any of us is Caitlin.” They looked at her once more and she looked back. “True enough, Duncan.” She spoke strongly now, any signs of her past boredom gone. “Halt is my brother after all. He has been since before we became what we are today.” Duncan nodded, “Which is why we need your knowledge on him to help us kill him.”

There was a pregnant silence as she stared at Duncan in disintrest and mild annoyance. “Halt is my family as well as Ferris. My loyalty belong to the people, Duncan, but my heart and my unconditional love will always belong to them.”

Rodney hummed in response, “How sad that is. To be caged by such toxic family.” He felt near pity for Mercy to be tied in with those two dark figures.

“Toxic?” Caitlin chuckled lightly, “No. Ferris and Halt are not toxic, at least not in the way you believe. They can be cruel, or harsh, or even painfully bunt, but they are never unjust or unruly.” Pauline looked at her then, an image came unannounced, but in a way cherished. An image of Caitlin, dressed in simple but elegant clothes. They were ancient by today’s standards. Next to her was Halt, sitting on what seemed to be a-

“It is true,” Pauline’s vision was cut off instantly by Caitlin’s voice. The Goddess of Mercy staring deep into the Goddess of Intelligence’s eyes. “Ferris wanders the world whispering false words, leading people astray.” She looked at Duncan now, “And it is also true the Halt still lingers in the darkest corners of the world, but so rarely are the ones who sacrifice their morals to protect the weak given standing ovations and are regarded as heroes.”

Duncan scoffed incredulously while the rest of the Gods were nearly paralyzed by Caitlin’ words. “Do you honestly think that Halt should be seen as a hero? This _creature_ of hate and mailce?” He shook his head, standing to leave as the meeting had only been effective in bickering and had been a waste of time. “Caitlin, we respect you, as you are the oldest among us, but, please, Halt is no hero. He may have had humanity in him to make him be the greatest spectacle of what is good, but it has been millenia since then.” He turned to leave, the shimmering reflection of his aura glowing silver as he moved. “Darkness changes people into monsters over time.” With the final word, he left. The heavy oak doors shutting loudly behind him.

Caitlin turned to stare at Morgareth, who remained seated along with Pauline, Arold, Rodney, Crowley, and Gilan. She stared at him for a long time before speaking for all to hear and with no hesitation in her voice.

 

“Yes, I suppose it does.”

 

* * *

 

After the rest of the Gods filed out of the meeting room, Morgareth turned down the corners of Duncan’s castle. _Duncan’s castle._ Not his, that brat that only receives his title through inheritance. It made Morgareth sick. He was a thousand years older the Duncan, he was more experienced, more suited to be a King. He had planned everything perfectly 8,000 years ago. Then Halt came. _Halt._ That name boiled his blood. Halt was responsible for his failure. Halt had the power Morgareth wanted, had the respect. He took even the beautiful Pauline from Morgareth. So when he finally got rid of Halt, everything should have fallen into place. But it didn’t. Duncan got the throne while he was given yet another lesser title. Pauline didn’t come to him, she shut herself away, never to love another man after Halt. But there was more than the humiliation he lived with.

There were the dreams. Halt haunted his dreams. He was there in every one of them every night for the last 8,000 years. He promised Morgareth he would be, did he not? He remebered the day clearly.

 

_Morgareth stood before Halt for the first time after the Gods had passed Judgement. He stood taller than the trees, nearing the mountain peak. He even seemed to block out the sun itself. How could They create such an imposing creature of death? But Morgareth had noted that the most intimidating factor of Halt was the way he was standing. It wasn’t battle-ready like he and his men were. No it was the stance of uninterest and open boredom. Those empty, black eyes settled on Morgareth after they had scanned his army. Only then did Halt move. A slight cock of his head as if to pretend he was surprised Morgareth would be in front, leading his men instead of in the back. Which was, in Morgareth’s opinion, insulting._

_Morgareth could feel his men become uneasy in the titan’s shadow. He spoke, to bolster their confidence and to try to make Halt back down. “Your reign of darkness is over today, Demon. You have laid waste to our lands and have grown fat on your greed for destruction. Today, The People of Araluen gather in their faith to aid me and my men in your butchering. You have nothing left. Your temples are burned to the ground, your followers executed, and your relics exorcised. You are nothing.” It seemed to work with his men. They began yelling their agreements so loud he could feel it shake even his spirit._

_But Halt was quiet. Just as he always was. Then it happened._

_A smile grew on his face. A smile too sharp and crooked to be considered anything but monstrous. Then he was black. Completely covered in shadow and smoke. Long appendages from the Void itself grew from his obscured figure. But it was not over. A voice came, heard not with ears but in the soul of every man, woman, and child. In the spirits of all of the Gods and in the dying light of King Oswald. A voice dripping with venom and mocking laughter._

 

_“How quaint you and your army are, little toy soldier.”_

 

Morgareth slammed his fist into a wall, stopping furiously as memories flooded him. While he fought Halt in an intense battle, his men died left and right. Either instantly or in a mass explosion of blood. But he heard Halt in his head the entire time. Mocking him, whispering all of his dirty secrets.

_“Creeping in dark corners like the rat you are.”_

He was a God of Valor, he passed the Trials.

_“ Playing pretend, can only go so far, Morgarath.”_

His name was Moragreth, a softer more refined name. Nothing like the wrathful version Halt gave him.

_“Do you honestly think that a child like you could hope to have an ounce of dignity like Prince Duncan?”_

Shut up.

_“You know I’m right.”_

Enough.

_“I know you Morgarath. I know of your wishes and your wanton desires.”_

“I said enough.”

_“You know just as well as I do that you are tainted in the murk of jealousy and that you will never be rid of me.”_

“Shut. Up. Demon.”

_“I am a part of you now.”_

“ **I SAID SHUT UP.”**

The hall was silent now. Halt’s deep, hypnotic voice finally leaving him at peace. Whether by hallucination of his subconscious or the being himself, Morgareth didn’t care. He only wanted it gone, but it never left. Not when Halt walked freely, not when he impaled Halt with his claymore, and not even millennia after. It was always there.

“Sir?” He looked over to see a small figure in the shadows of another corner. He stood straighter, attempting to remove any look of distraught from his face. “What is it?” he demanded. The figure bowed low, “You ordered us to wait for specific instructions before joining the Champions in the Hunt.”

Ah. He did say that. “Good to know you know your places, my warrior.” He walked closer to the shadow. “Listen closely, and know that failure is not an option in this task.” He waited as the figure drew closer to take in anything Morgareth had to say. It made him smile in sick pleasure to have such a willing puppet.

“Go to a village in the far north where it snows most of the year. It sits at the base of a mountain, surrounded by a dead forest. Ask any villager where the dead go to find rest.” His smile twisted into a malicious smirk. “And when you find the Demon’s Guard, bring me his head so that I may mount it on my wall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lets play a game called: Guess who is what
> 
> I wanted to give Caitlin so much more of a character then what she had in the books. Tell me what you think of her so far!! Who is your favorite character? Who do you want to see in future chapters?  
> Also, the chapters are just going to get longer from here on out.


	8. Adhair Báis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! So many things to go through!!!! 
> 
> Thank you guys for such the great support!
> 
> Want to discuss the story? Got questions? Art? Headcanons? Or do you just want to complain to me about Morgarath?  
> Look me up on social media! I would love to hear you guys and share everything (except spoilers) about My Dear Champion.
> 
> Tumblr: amarynth.tumblr.com

So very subtle was the wave of awareness that Halt had felt, that he nearly missed it. Nearly. He rarely missed anything. Even as a human, Halt was perceptive to most things that went on around him. He had to be of course, given to what he was, what he is now. The mists of melancholy sifting over his mind. What if…. What if things had been different? What if Eliza..

  
  


No. He will not dwell on such wants. Not when that rat Morgarath knew where he and his Champion was. Speaking of. Halt glanced through the barrier of his plane and the mortal realm where Will was. Will Treaty was a boy on the cusp of manhood, never taken the trials, and had a since a determination Halt had not seen in ages. He also was trying to hack a tree in half with a near useless sword.

  
  


“What are you doing?” Halt's sudden voice made Will jump, a feat Halt will never tire of. Putting the sword down and looking around for the source Will answered him. Will always tried to find Halt within his plane, whether he realised it or not. Not yet, dear Will, but soon. Once he completed the trials, Will would be more than any Champion to ever exist. If he had survived this long, Halt can only imagine the potential Will had locked away. His mouth watered at the thought of Will growing to be even more than human. “I'm just trying to get better at the sword. You keep telling me that I'll have to battle soon, so I want to be ready.” Is that what he was doing? Dear Void, this is going to be entertaining at least and catastrophic at the most. 

“Well, it would be easier if you held the blade correctly.” Halt watched the boy look at his hands and then look around again. “Hold the shaft with you dominant hand above and your left hand as its support.” Again that blank look as he hesitantly moved his hands. Halt stared at Will for a long, silent moment. His shifting feet and twitching hands were the obvious signs of someone who had no idea what he was doing. “Will, tell me something.”

“Yes, Halt?”

“Have you actually wielded a sword before?”

“Of course I-”

“Before today?” Halt was met with silence. He crossed the threshold of the Mortal realm and the Void, lowering his figure to be that if when he was human. He thought fleetingly that he was thinking of such a lost time more now that Will had begun this journey. When he appeared to Will, he noticed that he was still taller than him, if only by a head. Will stared in awe and Halt had to stomp on any pride he felt welling up in his chest. He raised an eyebrow as he waited for Will to answer him.

“Oh! Um, no.” Will had the decency to look bashful. “I mean I've seen my friend Horace practice in the training yard, so I thought that I could, you know,” he waved his hand in a vague motion. Ah. He was practicing by memory without any real knowledge of the craft. Halt sighed, “Can you use any weapons? A bow or axe or maybe even a sling?” The silence was deafening.

“Rinne mé buachaill damhair dá bhás.” 

Halt grabbed at the shadows around him and called forth a sword, “Throw away that trash and hold this.” Will put the useless rod of a blade against the tree, and went to grasp the sword Halt had presented. It wasn't black like he thought it would be. Instead it was a bright silver with a dark ebony handle and gold inlays. “ It's not gold.” Halt informed him he turned the sword over in Will's hands, “The blade itself is made of blue steel, do you see how it shines?” Will looked closer now and saw that it wasn't silver, but just a blue tint to the metal. Halt continued, “Blue steel is strong for a metal, it's not diamond strong, but it's much better than iron or regular steel. The handle is Ebony wood. That promotes easy carry since the wood is light and soft.” Will gripped the handle harder a few times to see if he could tell the difference between this grip and the one he was using. He could only tell that it was smoother than the coarse wood. When he looked back up at Halt, he saw that the deity was waiting patiently to continue. “The gold you see is actually shined bronze to help strengthen the impact of the hilt. That way your blade can take a beating when it needs to.” Will nodded as he soaked in this knowledge. 

       Halt seemed to know so much about the blade, was it his? He opened his mouth to ask, but was overcome by a feeling of minor dread, like he dropped a heavy object and was awaiting the impact on his foot. Looking up, he saw Halt staring past him, eyes focused and body rigid. Will felt himself go very cold before turning to look behind him. There, with them at the base of the mountain temple, was an elk. Not any normal elk, no, this one stood taller than Halt in his human facade and opalescent. Its fur seems to shimmer in and out of existence, as if it couldn’t decide on whether it wanted to be there or not. But its eyes were the most prominent. They were black, but not like Halt’s empty eyes. These reminded Will of the night sky during the new moon. Dark, but full of sparkling lights. But while the elk was beautiful, Will could only feel absolute worthlessness in his being. As if his existence meant nothing to the beast and it would always mean nothing.

     Halt moved quickly, stepping past Will to stand in front of him, shielding him from the vast gaze. “What do you want?” The elk tilted it's head slowly. “I'm not hiding anything from you, I just now what happens when you gain an interest in something.” The elk shook its fur out, stepping closer until it was nose to nose with Halt. Will couldn't help but cling to Halt as it came closer, pushing his face into the cloak on the deity's back, hoping that the shadows would make him invisible. Halt glanced back at Will's head at the pressure, but faced the elk once again. “I ask you again, what do you want?” His voice was soft, wary even as if he was scared.

  “We just wanted to see your Champion, the shy thing.” The voice was from everywhere and nowhere. It was of many voices, but sounded like it belonged to only one. “How cute he is, you dear Champion.” Will burrowed further into Halt, gripping tightly to his pauldrons. Halt shook his head, “He isn't my Champion, he hasn't gone through the trials.” Not yet. But Halt had plans, and he would see them through one way or another. “I don't want to see his soul destroyed by unnecessary strain. I have plans, as you undoubtedly know, and I must use every bit of precaution to execute them.” The voice seemed to laugh, the elk shaking its fur with mirth, “My Dear, everything you touch is destroyed, one way or another. It's is your gift, your blessing if you will, from us, our first born.”

     “It is a curse, but one I brought upon myself.” Halt turned and grabbed Will before he could turn with him. Moving him in front to face the elk, he presented Will like one would a nervous child, “This is Will Treaty, since I know you won't leave until you've seen him. He is my candidate for Champion. Will,” he looked down at Will, who looked back up with loss and fear, “this is Them. They are the ones who make the Gods.” They bent Their head to sniff at Will, who tried to move away before being stopped by Halt. He leaned down, moving his lips close enough to brush against Will's ear, “Hold still, my dear, They only wish to see you. Your fear is not unfounded, but it is not needed for this meeting. I will protect you if I need to.” Will slowly forced himself to relax, though if he were honest, it was Halt's voice in his ear and his fingers stroking through his hair that helped. Thier nose bumped against his cheek, inhaling his scent, even going as far as to lick him as well. When Will turned his head to look at Them, he locked eyes with Them. He suddenly felt like he was falling, endless and quick. The force of it taking his breath away. It only stopped when Halt covered his eyes.

The dark was a comfort, a constant that Will was now used to. His breath returned to him slowly and he became calm once again. "That is enough introductions, I think." Halt's voice vibrated against Will's back. "If you don't mind, I must oversee his training now." Will felt rather than heard Their response. Very Well, goodbye. Halt spoke again leaning forward, tilting himself and Will into a bow. "Good bye, All-Seers." When Halt removed his hand, Will didn't see the elk anywhere, even after looking around for it. "They're gone." He turned to Halt, who was shrugging off his cloak. "Yes, They are gone, and now we may continue our training." Will saw for the first time Halt's skin. The shirt Halt wore only covered his torso and not his arms. He could see that the cloak made Halt seem bigger than he actually was. His arms weren't Massive like Will thought they would be. Instead they were lean and defined, promising hidden strength to anyone who mistook Halt for weak. I was, however, Halts hands that made Will stare openly. Starting at his elbows, black covered the skin like ink, fading from tan to empty black. What Will thought were gauntlets, weren't gauntlets at all. They were Halt's hands. Smooth talons replaced what fingers would be with scale plates raising from his skin from his wists up his forearms.

"Are you finished staring?" Will jumped when Halt spoke, coming out of his staring. Halt was leaning on a wooden pole, handing him the sword he materialized. "Yes, Halt." Sheepish, Will took the sword and Halt grinned, too many sharp teeth for one mouth. "Good, now lets begin."

  
  


Caitlyn looked up from her book when the door to her quarters opened and Duncan walked in. Looking back to the text, she continued reading. Duncan walked further inside and sat himself, rubbing the palm of his hand across his face in a tired manner. He then looked at Caitlyn, who was seemingly ignoring him, reading her book. He tried to see the text, but was met with symbols he didn't understand in the slightest. "Good book?" He asked, trying to get her attention. He rewarded when she looked up, but saw that she had seen through his ploy when she looked mildly amused. She marked her place and then set the book down, "In the sense of storytelling it is a wonderful book, but I am afraid it is very sad." She offered him a cup of tea, which he took gratefully. "But doubt you came here to dicuss literature. What troubles you, Majesty?"

Duncan nursed his tea before speaking, "Many things these days. The Return, my daughter goes off to fight Halt, and my dreams are keeping me awake at night." Caitlyn nodded, waiting for him to continue. "The others have been doing what they can to make sense of Halt's Return, but I need everyone. You and Ferris are the only ones that haven't fully joined us. So, if you'll forgive me, I have ultimately come to question you on the matter. Why? I know he is your brother, and I know family is dearo you, but Halt is not something to cherish and nurture."

"Someone." Duncan paused. Caitlyn's voice was sharp and quiet. "Halt is a man, not some demon that steals your souls at the mere mention. He at the very least deserves that title." She looked distant and upset, like she was remembering a darker time. "Perhaps," Duncan said softly, not wanting to anger her, "if you told us about him, his ways, his thoughts, then maybe we can have a better understanding." He leaned forward, coming closer to her. "Caitlyn, please, I respect you. You are the eldest of all of us, you know more than any of us here. But I need you to help me. Help me stop this. Please."

"So you respect me? Me, and not my kin?" She looked at him then. "I am not the Eldest. There is only one who carries that title, and They gave it to him. You will speak to me, but not my brothers, who everything I do is for. Duncan, this is why I do not follow the others. All of you have scorned them when they have done nothing to deserve it." Duncan opened his mouth, but Caitlyn cut him off quickly. "You wonder at the long years of peace, thank Ferris for it! He whispers lies to your enemies, keeping them at bay. You hear of plagues of demons in other countries yet such horrors do not touch Araluen. You will thank Halt! For it is he who keeps them away from your borders, of all the creatures on this world, he loathes demons the most. And you have the gall to name him as such." She stopped, breathing heavy. Silence filled the room as Duncan waited for Caitlyn speak again. She didn't. She only placed her head in her hands and cried. He looked away, feeling that seeing Caitlyn cry was a private matter. Minutes passed with neither on of them speaking. Only when she quieted her tears did he speak again, "I am sorry, Caitlyn. I really am, believe me please. Its just that, Halt did horrible things to us when I became King. He took my family away. So, I cannot see him anything more as a monster. I cannot vouch for Ferris, for he does not listen to me" Caitlyn snorted, a sound that surprised him. "Ferris listens to no one but Halt. So don't feel bad."

"Why? Why only Halt, Caitlyn?"

"Lets just say, it was the only time Halt threw Ferris out of a window, and the last time he had to put Ferris in place." she giggled to herself, remembering the incident. Duncan blinked owlishly, "He, Halt threw Ferris out of a window?" Caitlyn nodded several times, still in the memory. "Oh yes, they were 17 and Ferris was so mad at Halt all the time, being the eldest and all. He said something or another and, " she mimed throwing something, "there he went! Halt was smiling the whole time." Duncan shook his head, picturing Halt throwing Ferris. The image was more scary then funny though. "Must have been a sight, I'm sure." Caitlyn nodded again, "Oh yes, Halt didn't wear black back then you see. It was always beautiful navy and gold. Ferris prefered emerald colors. That's how we were able to tell them apart." Duncan was given a vision then. Halt, the youngest he had ever seen him, swathed in a pristine attire the color of navy, like Caitlyn had described. There next to him was a perfect copy of him but in deep emerald. Ferris, he realised. They were looking at each other with mischief in their eyes, as if they were sharing a private joke. Halt was smiling, too. But not his infamous smile of endless teeth, this one was kind and full of laughter. It faded away just as quickly as it came. Caitlyn was looking at him now. Her eyes now sad, but her smile still there. "That who I see, King Duncan. For every name and title they are given, I still see my two big brothers who snuck me cakes to my lessons and took me on little adventures in the gardens." He took her hands then, looking deep into her eyes. "But how did they become such ways? Why did they fall to darkness?" Caitlyn met his gaze evenly and, with a broken voice, told him, "Tragedy breaks even the noblest of hearts and jealousy leads any man astray." She said nothing else and Duncan felt that to push her was to go down a road he did not wish to travel. Not yet.

“I just. I need to know if there is something that I have to pay attention to during this event.” He said it gently, not to put her in another episode of anger and remorse. “Is that all?” She whispered. Duncan nodded, “Yes, that is all I need. I want to make sure that no one is going to get hurt from all of this. Not if I can help it.”

  
  


“I just don’t know why the master wants us to do it like this.”

 

“Stop askin’ questions and help me with this trap.”

 

One dark figure stomped over to the other, leaning over to see the heavy metals coming together to form a makeshift guillotine. “You sure that thing’ll work?”

 

The smaller of the two scoffed, “Master didn’t choose you for your brains so don’t go pretending you’ve got them. Now shut up and hold this down so that I can reset the springs.” Doing so, that larger shadow looked around from where he knelt. “This place is so...quiet.” Even saying the fact out loud seemed to scream amongst the darkness of the night.

“It’s the graveyard.”

“I know that! It’s just. Its different, you know? Maybe because of that.” He nudged towards the looming mountain just before the village. They had arrived a week prior, passing the other champions and leading them astray. 

_ Adhair Bais. _ That was the name of the mountain. It was ancient Hibernian for Death’s Worship, the village had told them. It had been there for millenia, always watching and harvesting the dead. Their master, God Morgareth, had told them that this mountain was where an age old enemy rested and festered.

 

This mountain, and all of its suffocating aura, was where their prey waited.

Adhair Bais hid the Demon Warrior.


	9. Seift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seift= to plan or design

Will looked at the body and the bowl of organs he put on the altar just weeks before when he first arrived at the temple. Halt said that it had to ripen. Whatever that meant. “It is a special ceremony Will. If it were any other day, I would let you feast away, but this is very special.” Halt had spent the weeks passing blessing the body and preparing it for Will. Though for what Will didn’t really want to think too much about. Especially when Halt said the word ‘feast’.

Between training with Halt and exploring the temple, Will took it upon himself to clean the place. He gathered the bodies into a pile, much to his horror, and burned them in a makeshift pyre. After making sure it was okay with Halt first, of course. “They do not belong to me Will. Do whatever you want to with them.” was all that was said on the matter. So as they burned, he sent up a small prayer, hoping that they found peace or will now that they had been given ceremony. Afterwards, he swept the main hall and some of the hallways that weren’t overrun with rubble. He washed down the thrones, but didn’t touch the altar with the body.

He spoke with Halt while doing this. Always asking questions about him. “So you said that this is preparation for my trials.” He felt Halt turn his attention to him.

“I did.” Silence followed. Will learned that Halt didn’t talk all that much. He gave answers, not stories. “What am I going to be tried for?” Will put aside his broom to look up at the skylight. It was covered in brush. Maybe if he climbed Halt’s throne, he could reach it and clear it out. Get more light in.

“It is a Champion’s trial.” The voice was uninterested in the conversation. Will looked behind him, hoping to find Halt in any way he could. Halt said that the first night too. That Will was going to be his Champion “What do you mean a Champion’s Trial?” A chuckle met his ears.

“You get better at trying to find me in my own realm each day.” Halt materialized further to the left of where Will was looking. “But you’re not there yet.”

“Halt, don’t avoid me.” Will walked right up to the mass of shadow. “Only a God can do that. What kind of God are you? I’ve never heard of you.” Halt stared at him coolly, waiting for Will to stop talking. “What makes you think I have existed only in your era of knowledge?” Will didn’t know what to make of that. “But isn’t it only right that I know who I’m pledging completely to? I became your follower after the incident with the bandits out of gratitude, but not once did you tell me who you were exactly.” Halt regarded him with one raised eyebrow, looking down on Will as he did. It seemed that he was considering whether or not Will was worth anything or not. Swallowing thickly as the realization of what he was doing overcame him, Will waited for Halt to speak again.

“I see you’re realizing the gravity of your actions. I’ll let it go this time.”

“But, Halt-”

“In regards to your other question: Do you know what the best part about all of this is?” Will shook his head and Halt smiled his infamous smile, “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

And that was that for the rest of the preparation period. Will continued cleaning and settling in. His room was almost done. He managed to find enough blankets and throws to make a bed. Now he was just making it more homely. It was only when Halt had appeared on his throne one day that Will got some sort of an answer to his question.

“So I have to eat this?” he sounded on step away from hysterical. Halt, on the other hand, was calmer than the lull of a storm.

“Correct.”

“Cutting it open and dumping out the guts wasn’t enough?” That remark was rewarded with one of Halt’s blank stares. The one that made Will feeling sick. “Alright, Alright! I just, I don’t know. I’ve never done this before!”

“Will, I honestly would be concerned if you had.”

“But that doesn’t explain why I have to eat him!”

Halt sighed and leaned forward, “You’re not eating the person. You’re more eating who and what they were. Don’t think of it as eating his muscle, think of it as eating his strength. When you devour him, you gain his strengths. Using them to your advantage.” Will looked back at the body, confusion only growing. “But why do this at all? What started it?”

Halt looked at him with a mocking look of melancholy, “Sometimes, certain old habits are harder to get rid of than others.” After more prompting and lowkey threatening on Halt’s part, Will began the first test of his Trials.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was sweet. So sweet in the thick after taste of metal. Will craved more. He yearned for it. Another bite. It was thick, squishy, and just wet. Blood splashed down onto the stone floor before the altar. The noises of the feast echoing through the empty room.

There, in front of him, watching with clear joy, was Halt. He sat back and witnessed Will eat the corpse. It had thawed during the journey from the cold earth to the heart of the Temple. Then in it’s soft, vulnerable state, Will had cut it open with his dagger and scooped out the bowels, taking care not to spill them, and placed them in a bowel. Halt then took the necessary actions to bless the contents. It took longer than expected since he had to gather materials in his realm in order for the ceremony to work. Now it was done, and Will was doing fantastic on his part.

Another bite was taken. More blood dribbled down Will’s chin and down his neck. The scene was barbaric, morbid even. And it made Halt smile. He licked his lips, shifting on his throne as if anxious to join him. With a moan of pleasure from Will, Halt did just that.

He slid off of the giant throne, moving as shadows do until he was before Will. Towering over him, he cupped Will’s jaw with the large hand. He held it there.

So small was Will like this. His entire head fit snugly between Halt’s middle and ring fingers. Halt could kill him so easily, it didn’t even have to take physical action to do so. All he had to do was look into his mind and have every little thing that kept Will awake at night eat him alive.

He moved his face closer to Will’s then. “Now, now, my dear. Don’t be wasteful.” He trailed his tongue from Will’s collarbone to the corner of his mouth, following the blood trail. It pooled in his mouth so deliciously. Once that was done, Halt covered Will’s mouth with his and pried it open, tipping Will’s head back, and let the blood pour in.

Will, for his part drank greedily, grasping onto Halt as he took what Halt had to offer.

 

There, in the dark and surrounded by flesh, they feasted.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It had been weeks since the king had sent out the Champions in search of Halt and his warrior. Pauline sighed, looking up from her reports. By now Alyss would be close to unraveling the truth. She was always so sharp, and Pauline had recognized the look the girl had throughout the meeting. Suspicion. She didn’t believe the story being told to her. As she shouldn’t. She chose Alyss because of her intelligence, not because of her looks. Pauline allowed a smile to come across her face. The first one in a while.

Between the anxiety of Halt’s return, the King disappearing to Caitlin’s quarters, and Morgareth’s advances, Pauline couldn’t catch a break. Knowing the report wasn’t going to get done now, she set it aside and slipped into memories.

She remembered when she was human, all of her mistakes and adventures. Her first kiss; some young boy from her village. What was his name? She remembered her Trial to become a Goddess. She was so nervous throughout the whole ordeal. When she passed and claimed her throne, they were waiting for her. The Siblings. Caitlin had actually come down from her throne to congratulate her. Ferris was so quiet, so nondescript, that he only nodded to her before leaving to who knows where. But it was Halt who stole her breath away.

Halt. From a distance, he wasn’t anything extraordinary. Like he was just a shadow. But, with Caitlin’s prompting, he came closer. A breeze had come forward and darkness spilled over him before leaving once more. He looked different then. It was only when he was close enough to her that she realized why that was.

He was clean. Before he was dark and matted as if he had come from battle and never washed off. Blood caked on like a second skin. Now, his hair was full of life and smooth. His armor had faded into a fitted tuxedo jacket. Short in the front, but it seemed to flow in the back until it nearly touched the floor in a mass of navy and gold. His boots had shifted from metal and leather to something with more class. They were tall, covering his knees, gold laces trailing down the front.

She remembered every detail of the meeting because it was the very moment that she fell for Halt. “Teaches me to not trust men no matter how well dressed they are.” she scorned herself.

“I did it out of respect for you.” And there he was. Sitting on her chaise lounge as if he belonged there.

Halt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Crowley burst through doors, stumbling onto the scene of Halt and Pauline staring down one another. Dread filled him to the brim. If Halt was here, actually here, then that would mean only death creeping on them like a starving beast.

“Crowley, don’t be dramatic. I’m only here on a social call.” Halt’s voice was still as smooth as ever, but it still held quiet promises of darkness. The God stood up, still looking at Pauline. “Besides, this involves you too. Now close the door.” Crowley looked at Pauline, who nodded, before closing said door. Inching closer to the Goddess, eyes never leaving Halt’s body, Crowley cleared his throat. “Why are you here Halt? Surely you are aware.”

Halt nodded, “Of course, I did return a gift did I not?” The raven’s skull that had been delivered during the meeting. Pauline stepped forward, her voice dripping with barely concealed malice, “What do you want?” Halt regarded her before stepping closer. Soon, he was so close that he shared a breath with Pauline. Black eyes looking into golden ones. “Do you trust Morgarath?”

It was a whisper. But one that shook the room. Crowley and Pauline glanced at each other before they answered. “He is the God of Valor.”

“But do you trust him?”

Crowley was stuck in a corner. On one hand, he didn’t work for the Gods, he worked for Them, he could say what he wanted to. But on the other, if he disrespected any of the Gods, Halt included, it could be disastrous. Pauline, however, was not bound by such decisions.

“No. He is a foul man even if his Title says otherwise.” Halt smiled and it unsettled them both. How can so many teeth be fitted in one mouth? “Good. I only came to give advice, then I must return to my dear Champion.” He grabbed Pauline’s hand and then Crowley’s, his talons cold against their palms. “Listen to the King and Caitlin. They have a plan and more is becoming uncovered the more they speak. The truth is nearly ripe for harvest.”

Crowley frowned. What did that mean? The truth? The truth about what? “Halt we don’t understand. You betrayed everyone and now you’re back with a Champion, you expect us to trust you?” Halt let go of Pauline to cradle Crowley’s head in his hands. “No, I expect you both to listen to your intuition as well as the facts. My Champion will finish the Trials, and when he does, no one will get in the way of my plans for Morgarath. Not even you, my friends.”

Friends. That was a word that didn’t make anyone comfortable. But before either one of them could say anything else, Halt was gone. And they were alone.

Pauline gathered herself before turning to Crowley. “Was there a reason you came, Crowley? He was unexpected, but I feel that you were planned.” She was met by silence. Crowley had a look of serious concentration. He looked at the door then back to where Halt had been. “Crowley?”

“Caitlin sent me.” It was rushed and breathless. Like he couldn’t bring himself to admit a secret. “She said that you had called for me, that it was urgent that I be here.” Caitlin. Pauline’s eyes widened. Halt said to listen to the king and Caitlin. Sure she was his sister, but why mention her and the king? They had been meeting together, but surely that didn’t mean-?

“She sent me here and then Halt shows up. Here in the Palace for the first time since his banishment. Please tell me I’m not the only one who finds that suspicious.”

“You’re not. Something is happening. Something much larger than Halt’s return.” She turned to Crowley, eyes sharp. “We keep this to ourselves. No one else is to know about this. Not even Gilan.”

“You can’t seriously be protecting Halt?” The accusation was blunt, but not unfounded. Everyone knew Pauline loved Halt. She shook her head though.

“My heart may have chosen a monster, but my mind is above desiring men. Something tells me that if the others were to know about this meeting of ours, then not only would war be upon the land, but we would be reprimanded.”

“By Duncan?”

“By _Them_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is so busy planning around everyone else that they're missing the real plan.
> 
> But what is the real plan?


	10. Bagairtí

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bagairtí= Threats
> 
> I had fun with this chapter >:)))

The first thing he noticed were the stars, drifting and swirling around him. That made him aware how dark it really was, which led to the feeling of being cold. He saw how his breath formed into mist before him, and he shivered. Looking around more, He realized that he was standing in a desert. Or something that resembled a desert. Which was odd because Araluen didn’t have deserts. Vast plains of dead grass, but no barren wastelands. Looking further, he saw….nothing. Nothing met his gaze. And that, he decided, scared him.

That is, until the voice started to speak.

“Duncan.”

Duncan, King of Araluen and God of Vigilance, spun around like a frightened child and the echoing voice, trying to find who it belonged to. It was disembodied almost, but he couldn’t help but feel like he knew who it was. Still, no matter how hard he tried, Duncan could not see the person….or thing if he was being honest with himself. It came as a whisper, but shook him like a bellow.

“Why do you turn away from us?” It was so close, yet it felt so far away. Turning once more, Duncan stumbled back when, finally, he found the source.

 

Them.

 

They towered over him, as they always did. Their faded silhouette lighter than the sky, but always too obscure to be truly seen. They leaned closer, the mockery of a face closing in on his. He felt useless then, as if he had failed everything he had done and would continue to do so. “I-” His voice cracked, “I didn’t mean to. I just-” The ground shook. If he wasn’t already sitting, he would be now. Their hands landing on either side of him, Duncan was now trapped. As if he had chance of escape in the first place.

“It has been a while since we have spoken to you. It seems that you have been busy as of late.” He knew that They knew about Halt’s return. How could They not? “We are quite amused with the way you handle these….delicate situations.” They were mocking him, he just knew it. He couldn't prove it or even speak up against it, but he knew. What did they expect if him? That he alone go up against Halt? Halt was ancient and powerful. Even weakened as he was, Halt could easily conquer half of the country before being remotely stopped.

“We never said that you had to face him.” That made Duncan look at Them sharply. “If I don't, then who will deal with the threat he poses?” A vibration travelled through him. Almost like a chuckle.

“You hop around your little games like a child, and, as funny as it is to watch, it is time you grew up, little King. Have you been talking with The Rose?” The….what? “She sings for Mercy and We have always loved her songs.” Oh, They meant Caitlin.

“I...yes. I have been speaking with her. Why?” A tilt to Their head, “Even after hearing her symphony, you still cannot see?” Duncan felt his chest get tight in irritation. If They wanted to say something, They should just say it. Another vibration. “Little siblings always try to beat the Eldest when they should listen to what they have to say.”

And with that Duncan woke up in his bed, angry and confused.

 

                                                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morgareth's dreams were becoming more dark with each passing day. At first they were normal, fleeting shadows and unease. But now they escalated to crippling fear that was relentless. Every night he awoke, gasping for breath, Halt’s gaze burning into his soul. He knew what it meant. How could he not? Years of planning, millenia of waiting, Morgareth knew the risks of Halt’s involvement. Each time he closed his eyes, he could see the glint of those awful teeth Halt possessed. He dragged himself out of bed, after a particular bad dream. Washing his face to rid himself of the terror, he looked in the mirror.

Halt’s face stared back. Morgareth threw himself away from the reflection, but it was gone. Only his own face, white and sweating, stared back. He left the room, shaking himself off. Just his nerves. He dressed for the day, pulling on his armor and effects. Odd, they seemed loose, like they didn’t fit quite right. He’ll have to have that fixed. He went to fix his boots, only to stop. When did he put his gauntlets on? He usually saved those for last. They fit wonderfully too, as if they were second skin. He shook himself again. He must be out of it from that dream. The swirling darkness and Halt’s gaze burning into his soul. No, Morgareth won’t think about it.

He finished getting dressed and he left, setting his path to the training grounds. Once he began going through fighting techniques, he would forget all about it. He was sure of it. Morgareth was so focused on his plan to train and forget he nearly ran over the last three Champions to leave. “Good gracious! What are you doing here?” The three had stopped in front of him. If he remembered correctly, they belonged to Pauline, Duncan, and Rodney. The girl belonging to Pauline stepped forward, “My Lord, forgive us for interrupting your day, but we have important questions regarding our mission. We’ve spoken to everyone else, but they don’t seem to have an answer. We hoped you might, you have fought this foe before, correct?” He stared at her, idly wondering if it was worth his time to even speak to them. He decided that it wouldn’t hurt.

“What is it?” Morgareth sounded tired to Alyss, but she pressed on. This was their last chance to find out what happened to the Book. They had gone to every other God, but they were brushed off, as if they shouldn’t even be asking. But the three of them had a hunch, and if that hunch was correct, then they had a bigger problem than they first thought. “My Lord, what nature is this demon? Or, more specifically, what abilities does it possess that we need to be wary of?” Horace noticed a look of suspicion passed over Morgareth’s face before it became neutral again. _Interesting._

“It is a demon of shadow. It can manipulate its size and can call upon shadow to attack.” The answer was short and to the point. Morgareth knew that if he gave away too much, all of his work would be for nothing. Alyss hummed and took some notes.”We were looking through this book,” she held up the Book of Gods & Goddesses, “to see if we can find the reference for what you used to defeat it before, but we couldn’t seem to find it. Is it in a different book?”

Morgareth stared at the book as if it were the first time he had seen it. He held out his hand for her to give it over, but paused to stare at his gauntlet. Strange, he thought, it looked different before. It seemed brighter than this morning. He looked back at the Champions who were looking at him expectantly. He shook his head slightly, and took the book from the girl’s outstretched hands. Flipping through the pages, he stopped when his eyes met the torn pages. “Yes, we thought that was strange too.” It was Duncan’s daughter who spoke now. “But all of the Gods are present in the book. Strange, I wonder if it was a mistake that was removed?”

The frayed ends glared at him. Another piece of the past. What would Halt think if he knew? Of course he knew. He had to. A wave of ice went down his spine. _What if_ _They knew?_ He shook himself yet again. What was wrong with him? He needed to keep a level head, focus! “The pages...were written by The Keeper, you would have to ask him.” He tried to turn to Ferris’s chapter, but found that he couldn’t. “We asked him, he said that it was just a filler chapter, notes that weren’t important.” He scoffed at Alyss’s words.

“As if that _man_ could ever truly understand anything. This chapter was a plague. He deserved to be erased from history.” _Oh no._ He said too much. Tossing the book at the girl and pushing pass them, he spoke quickly, “Enough, I’ve answered your questions and you’re on the brink of wasting my time.” He left them without another word.

                                                      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Horace looked after the God of Valor. _Very interesting._  The girls began whispering their findings, and he listened, forming together his own thoughts. Morgareth knew something, that was painfully obvious. “I’m telling you, what if he was the one to rip out the pages?”

“That’s heretic talk! We can’t just accuse a _God_ of heresy without proof.”

Horace looked back at Alyss and Cassandra as they bickered. They seemed to get along fine, but always argued about their views. They argued about who to ask first, how to ask the questions, what questions to ask to who. It never really escalated, but it never ended either. “Did either of you catch his last sentence?”

They stopped and looked at him. “You mean when he practically told us to fuck off?” Cassandra had quite the vocabulary for a princess, Horace learned that quickly too.He shook his head.

“No. ‘ _He deserved to be erased from history.’_ Who was he talking about?” The girls looked at him in awe. It bothered him that they thought he wasn’t as smart as them sometimes. “While you two were chirping at each other and pretending to be helpless, I was watching his face and listening to his words.”

“So were we, Horace.” Alyss huffed. He shook his head. “Obviously not that well if you missed that part. He knows who the missing chapter was about, and, more importantly, he knows how it got damaged.” Alyss opened her mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it and it. “He also seemed agitated. Paranoid even.”

Cassandra nodded, “Yes I noticed that too.” Horace wondered if she was making that up but said nothing. “I’ve never seen him like that. Have either of you?” Alyss and Horace hadn’t. Morgareth was known for his calm in stressful situations. So why did speaking with three Champions cause so much stress to come over him? “I think,” Horace said after a while, “that we got our answer, but we don’t have enough information to understand it.”

Alyss nodded, “I think you’re right.”

                                                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She went to Caitlin, not knowing who else to speak to. Alyss had a hunch that Pauline would brush her off, but Caitlin always seemed to answer questions. It was as if the Goddess didn’t care for secrecy like the others. Turning the corner, she came upon the cream and gold doors of Caitlin’s rooms. She stopped, taking a deep breath and composing her thoughts.

Caitlin hated Morgareth and if she knew anything that he would want to be kept a secret, she would tell her. Right? The three of them had asked her about the pages, but the Goddess only said, “Interesting.” and stared at the book in what seemed to be manic glee concealed by surprise. As if she was excited to see the pages ripped out. Alyss didn’t have time to ask her about it because Cassandra had pushed them out of the rooms, muttering some nonsense like, “She’s always avoided straight answers.” and “Has no care for anything my father worked so hard to preserve.” The princess was a great Champion, but she annoyed Alyss with her high and mighty attitude sometimes. Now she was back, without Horace and Cassandra, to get something out of the Goddess of Mercy. Anything to get to the bottom of what they were up against.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts, that Alyss didn’t see the doors open. She startled when she looked up to see the person in question smiling down at her. “Hello, little one, come for more answers?” Alyss nodded and walked in after being motioned to do so. Catilin led them to some couches, seating herself on one and giving the other to Alyss. “Tea?” Alyss nodded gratefully, waiting for the pleasantries to finish before her interrogation started.

Taking a sip, she steeled herself for the task ahead. But it seemed that Caitlin had other plans. “It is fascinating to find that the Book has been damaged.” She said lightly, as if stating the oddities in the weather. “I didn’t know he had it in him to do such a thing.”

“Who?” Alyss took the leap, now was the only opportunity she might get. Caitlin looked at her in mild surprise. “Why, Morgareth, obviously. We never liked him, even when he became a god. Too arrogant.” Alyss nodded, hoping for more, but none came. So she prodded.

“You and Ferris? Since the two of you are the oldest among the Pantheon.” Caitlin nodded, sipping more tea, her eyes closing in small pleasure at the taste.

“Our elder brother was never fond of him either.”

 

What?

 

An elder brother? There were no records of them having an elder brother. She told Caitlin that, maybe this was a test, to catch her off guard. But the Goddess set down her cup and looked at Alyss with adoration. “You’ve done your research. Which is good, but you won’t find him in the books anymore, apparently. Otherwise you would already know about him. The king likes to think that all secrets can be hidden forever, but forever is just a concept of time. Time has no hold on us. Not like mortals.”

“So he was a god? Slain or corrupted?” Alyss leaned in the edge of her seat. This was going faster than she expected. She couldn’t help but get excited. Caitlin leaned in as if sharing a scandalous secret, “He _is_ a god, yes.” She leaned back, waiting.

Alyss’s mind was reeling.

Is.

_Is. He is a god._

“He’s still here.” she whispered, as if knowing about his existence was wrong. Caitlin nodded.

“I have been waiting for 8,000 years to tell someone who came remotely close to figuring it out. There was no rush, so I never pushed it. The others know, but the Champions? No, they didn’t have a clue. That is,” she looked at Alyss with pride, “until you.”

“But why? Why keep it such a secret? What is he the god of? Why is he gone?”

The Goddess shrugged, “I’ve always loved a good scandal, call it a weakness of mine. As for the others, they believe in the notion, out of sight out of mind. Pauline was devastated though. She loved him. Still does probably.”

Oh Gods, Alyss thought, that was why she never wanted to answer the questions. That’s why she pushed her away when the Book came up. Alyss looked in pure shock at the Goddess, who was idly sipping her tea. Shaking herself, Alyss stumbled over her next question. “What- or who is he, exactly?” She watched Caitlin consider her question, staring into the cup as if it held her answer. She set it down and looked up to place on the wall behind Alyss, her eyes glazing over in melancholy.

“When we were human, thousands of years ago, things were bad. We are much better off, that is all I’ll say about the land. But we reigned over it all the same, we were the light casted over the shadows, the symbol of order amongst the chaos. We had an empire the world has never seen since.”

“Hibernia.” It was a whisper. The lost Empire of Hibernia was that of legend. It reigned for generations only to seemingly crumble overnight. Caitlin nodded.

“Hibernia was forged and maintained by my family since the beginning. It was always said that Hibernia was born from an O’Carrick’s hand and it would only die from an O’Carrick’s hand.And that’s what happened. It died, as things do.” She sighed, “I’m not sad to see the nation lost. I am only hurt by the events that caused it. My Eldest brother was its King, I its princess. It flourished until the army came and took it all. He was devastated by the loss it caused him, and he went mad with grief. Soon it consumed him and he went for a cure.” Alyss listened in great interest, not daring to even breath. “He was gone for years, Ferris and I did what we could to keep the country from falling, but the damage was done. We were on the brink of economic downfall when he returned. But he was different, he wasn’t the brother we remembered. His mannerisms and quirks were still there, but he seemed...detached from reality. As if he knew what would happen, knew more than any mortal should.

We found out later that _They_ cured him, but at a price. A heavy one. My brother became the first god, but was not one of light or hope.” She looked at Alyss then, “They have an interesting sense of humor, you know? They will make you a god if you pass the trials, but you become the very thing you turned into to achieve such a position.”

“He became war then? Since there was a war that pushed him to madness.” Alyss guessed, it made the most sense to her.

But Caitlin shook her head, “Nothing so bland. He is everywhere, in a way. In every creature, every plant, every idea. The others believed him banished out of our world, but he is never lost. He stands for something inevitable, something no one can avoid from the greatest crime to the smallest act.”

“Death, then?” that earned her a smile.

“Close, little one, but didn’t you want to know his name first?” Caitlin smiled wider at Alyss’s nod. “Then let me tell you the entire story then. Let me tell the story of The Eldest, The First of the Pantheon, Halt.”

                                                             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morgareth was hyperventilating. Everytime he looked into his reflection, it seemed wrong, like it was a mask for something else. He began to see the shadows from his dreams stalk the halls after him. He all but ran around a corner to escape one. They never attacked, but they got far too close for comfort. _“Look at him run, just like a rat.”_ Oh and they started talking too. They were like snakes, hissing insults and taunting him. They really began showing up after that damned book! Morgareth should have just burned the wretched thing. _“What’s the matter, rat? Trying to wedge yourself into a corner? Hiding in the walls?”_ He growled, pushing himself off of the wall and storming to his office.

Slamming the doors shut and throwing himself onto his chair, Morgareth stared at the desk. His hands were shaking and he was certain he was sweating. This shouldn’t be happening! _He_ was not supposed to be this powerful!

“What confidence you have, assuming the extent of my abilities when you barely comprehend your own.”

Every bone in Morgareth’s body froze, his skin crawled, but, worst of all, his mind became blank with terror. Looking up, he saw the only person capable of achieving such a feat.

Halt.

The bastard was lounging in one of the chairs in front of the desk as if it was a throne made just for him. The shadows that always wrapped around him stretching like lazy limbs, licking the floor and desk. Those awful, black eyes staring at Morgareth in obvious mirth. Morgareth took in a shuddering breath, “I could have the guards called to dispatch you for being here.”

Halt cocked his head to the side, lips pursing, “You can’t do it yourself?” a disgustingly wicked smile cracked over his face then, “Or, have you fallen so low that you can barely accomplish simple tasks yourself?” Moragerth slammed his fist on the wood, but Halt didn’t so much as blink. “What’s wrong, Rat? All of this power, all of this recognition, and you’ll let it all go because something goes bump in the night?” Summoning enough energy to stand and tower over Halt, Morgareth bared his teeth, “How _dare_ you? I have earned this right! I am capable of so much more than you can possibly imagine!”

Halt didn’t move, only looked up at him mock boredom, but the shadows, those damn things, grew in size until they filled the room. Morgareth refused to back down though, he would not be bested by this demon.

The movement was so fast, he didn’t have time to even think about moving out of the way. One of those taloned hands grabbed the front of Morgareth’s armor and pulled him down, bringing him close to that horribly calm face. “How dare I? You have some audacity, Morgarath. You think you know how dangerous I can become. But let me assure you,” the next words a whisper that shook his very soul, “you have seen my boredom, not my rage. When I come for you, and I will, make no mistake, I will destroy the very foundation of your resolve. I will take every thread of your soul and rip it apart until you are _begging me for death._ And then I’ll shatter your bones. Maybe I’ll let my Champion taste the flesh of a god? When you have been reduced to _nothing, then, and only then, will I end your miserable excuse for a life. You stopped entertaining me in your game for power when you began to hunt my dear one like an animal._ ”

Dear one? “That Cham-” his head was slammed down into the desk, Halt coming close to whisper into his ear, “ _You don’t deserve the honor of speaking of him. I just came for a little visit, but I see now that I have uncovered so much more about you. Look at how much of yourself you’ve destroyed, Morgarath. Was it worth it? To achieve so much only to have an entity older than your lineage consume you like it was nothing? Because it is.”_ He began petting Morgarath like a dog, “ _It is nothing to do this to you. So be ready, my sweet, because I’m coming. And when I do, I’ll fulfill all of my promises.”_

And then he was gone, leaving Morgarath alone and shaken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're getting into the lore of the story very soon, and I'm excited for it
> 
> Can't wait for the reason of the rating to show up too.
> 
> >:))))))))))))


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